Unkept Promises

Every Peace treaty

Every marriage

Every relationship

Every dysfunctional family

That fails

Has a history

Of Unkept promises

Promises which did not

Pass the test of time

There should be

A proper closure

For unkept promises

Or else they turn into deep wounds

They grow like cancer

Occupying spaces

Leaving no breathing room

They are like unseen

Elephants in the room

Which are never addressed

The room where

Where adults play

The game of pretend

Lies and amnesia

While teaching their youngs

Lessons of morals, values

And promises…

That promises are meant to be kept!!

Joan of Arc

Though there is ample evidence

That we were the harvesters, gatherers

While men went hunting and gaming

Maybe we were cave artists too

Though there is an ample evidence

That we did the ground calculations

For ambitious space missions

Carried out fatal experiments

To figure out x rays, radioactivity and

Even the DNA structure

Though there is evidence

That most anonymous writers

Too were women

They were also those wives, sisters, sister in laws and whores

Which gave the world stupendous art

Yet women have been historically ignored

Cast aside, taken for granted

Treated as a doormat 

While men ran their victory laps

As they stood on the podium 

The tray bearers were the women too

There is ample overpowering evidence

That we birthed the entire humanity

Every evil soul who masquerades as saviour

Started life in a mother’s womb

The very female sex whom he ended up

Exploiting, killing and silencing

How did we end up here?

Are we truly the weaker kind?

Or just too kind? Or too conditioned?

Passing on the intergenerational trauma

And patriarchy in equal measures

No wonder we end up being hated a lot

For trading freedom for freedom

That’s the only real deal for us

Be unfree, free, unfree, free

To be or not to be

We truly can’t distinguish between choices

There isn’t any escape route

From this foul role-play

We regale it in and we ace it too!!

After all we just have to call it day

And decide not to give birth

And watch homes and government scramble

With incentives and perks

We can pull off a demographic shift

Yet these imbecile fools

Disrespect and disrobe us

Rape and kill as per their will

There seems to be no end in sight

We are still in the recognition stage

Recognising the inequality

Still debating that patriarchy 

Is the ultimate design

No wonder Joan of Arc

Was called a witch and burnt at stake

Only to be venerated later

As a patron saint and saviour

This game is too old

Can we move to the next level?

We refuse to be recognised in retrospect

We dare you to practice equality

Take those baby steps

Remember we women are good at it

To teach those baby steps

Watch you falter

Give us a chance to make you

A better human or maybe at least a human!!

Photo courtesy: My son, Anuran. This was clicked at Orleans where Joan of Arc led the war to save France.

Unheard Screams

She was out on the streets

Screaming about horrors

That went on inside a mansion

No one believed her

Women are always

Hysteric they thought

Before her there was another

A super model

Who tried to tell the truth

She was packed off

To the psychiatric ward

A filmmaker tried too

He died before

The world saw his edited film

Which felt like his perverse imagination

All this while

For decades men and women

Of power and influence

Kept mum even when they knew

They all partied, built a horrific reality

That the world thought was

Just a perverse imagination

They maimed, harmed and killed

In the name of fun and longevity

It took a whole generation

Of abused and trafficked kids to grow up

To call it all out, fight endless legal battles

Die mysteriously in the process

To bring it all to the light

With all evidence for everyone to see

Yet the world is numb

The perverse spy network

That controlled the world

Still thrives in money and power

Telling people to move on

Screaming only stocks and race

Money and influence matters

A handful few perverts

Reminding us that torture chambers

Continue to exist, cruelty never dies

In war between good and evil

Evil always has the ugliest loud laugh

While goodness stands shackled

Maimed, trafficked and brutally abused

No one believes the goodness anymore

What good does it serve to be good?

What kind of a rot is this? 

Where screams of vulnerable

Women and children

Often go unheard

While men continue to flaunt

Their naked positions and power

Through utter cruel perversity

Shame on this selective

Deaf, dumb and blind world

Was it all like this forever?

Was free world, an illusion

That was sold to us?

Just like puppets we dance

While the screams go unheard

We scroll past all the horrors

To pause at delicate flowers

Or wellness reels

How many steps did you walk today?

Far too Long…

It takes far too long

To figure out the right from wrong

It takes far too much

To comprehend how much is too much

It takes a lifetime

To figure out life is about time

Sometimes it’s far too late

To let go what is already lost

It takes too long to figure out

There isn’t any blue print

And there isn’t much to figure out

By the time we find the puzzle pieces

It is too late

The puzzle actually is being undone

And not all pieces fit in

It takes forever

To know that silence is eloquent

Conveys more than words

It takes too many wars to know

To know what actually is at stake

And wars go on far too long

And love?

We can barely hold it for long

It slips through fingers like sand

The moment you define it

It becomes a possession

A caged bird

Which rarely returns when set free

It goes away far too far and

Far too long…

Sometimes It Is Too Late…

A petit pink fresh flower

Fell on the roadside

Just detached from the mother tree

I thought of picking it up

On my way back

As I walked ahead

A big SUV passed me by

At the end of the lane

As I turned

I saw it backing

Into its marked zone

To park perhaps

To my utter dismay

The wheels went over

That petit pink flower lay crushed

Beneath the mother tree

Sometimes it is just too late

To  behold, cherish and save

Beauty is often fragile and transient

Always ending up crushed

Under the ruthless

Wheels of the civilization

Sometimes it is too late

Most times it is too late!!

Tiger Tiger

http://madkatphotoessays.com/2025/11/08/tiger-tiger/

Excerpt:

“Humans who have built roads

Into their territories

Are now the new colonisers

How much ever we study history

Dissect colonisation

We continue to colonise nature

To plunder it all

Leaving no space to other species

While the capital city

Chokes on high AQI

We try fancy stuff

Like seeding the clouds

We want even clouds

To be performative

Even when all our acts

Grand spectacular failure

We refuse to learn simple truth

We just need to save 

The planet and nature 

For it to save us!!”

Image courtesy: Arvind Karthik

Light and Dark

Light and Dark

Light and darkness
Both fill my home
I have made peace
With both
For, I dwell in the greys

I never had a life plan
But life did have a design
Without a choice
I went along

I chose life or
Life chose me
Here we are
Conversing daily

I don’t know
What happens tomorrow
Or day after
Or years later

I am fatigued
I am just arriving
At my present
Made of nows

Don’t ask me
About my future
Or the path that
Hasn’t yet appeared

Perhaps, I will forever
Dwell in the greys and greens
To soak in the blue hour
Seeking stars, comets and the moon

Unpredictable Life

Nothing succeeds like success

And nothing fails like a failure

Life remains a gamble

Whose cards we neither own

And not do we hold

It’s a probability game they say

Chances of one being born

Chances of one dying

Who decides the starting lineup?

Who makes it

To the finishing line?

Your guess is as good as mine

It’s a bad script

A very sad one too

Life – remains a long sigh

We will never know

If the cries of those children

Will become our worse nightmare

How does one settle upon a grave?

Or build mansions

On trampled dreams

Merchants will sell you anything

Ketto diet, protein diet, botox

A whole new you

Like a Ship of Theseus

Nothing authentic or original

But yet we ace at being an odd

Superposition of the both

Forgetting lines

Of an erasing script

We keep babbling

Nothing makes sense

None of the pieces

Of this puzzle fit

If only we could feel

The emptiness of space

Earth’s solo cosmic dance

Rarest of rare life on it

Sustained by the sun

Maybe we would learn

To value this one chance

The one shot

We actually have

To live a life

To love a life

Stranger

A stranger stares at me

Whenever I look at the mirror

A school girl with two pigtails

A college goer

A trekker

A writer

Stranger takes many forms

All forms seem

Like a figment of imagination

The mirror itself has gone missing

The images are stuck in my head

My self tries to time travel

I climb the hills

But I go out of breath

The pigtails are gone too

A writer perhaps still thrives

Who will keep record

Of all these strangers?

They grew up with me

And then abandoned me

Or maybe I abandoned them

It’s not just them or me

The world has become a stranger too

Victims have turned perpetrators

Little children no longer grow old

To stare at the mirror

To remember their many strange selves

As we go further to discover

Ever expanding edges of the Universe

We seem to be collapsing

Just like those stars running out of hydrogen

We are made of star dust after all

Stars taught us to go nuclear perhaps

Just like a habitat with prey and predators

We continue to live in a concrete jungle

Though roles get reversed in every epoch

Predators become prey

Hunted turn into hunters

How long will it take for us

To be humans?

Mirror has no answers

My many selves and versions

Collapse into one too

The one that is trapped

Behind the mirror or screen perhaps

A virtual self…a stranger

Stares back at me!!

My Happy Place

We all look for it

A proverbial ‘happy place’

A place where

One can be oneself

One can find yourself

One learns to look

At self and world differently

In the life’s roller coaster ride

There is always one place, one city

Where you know

You are safe

Not just because of people

But in spite of people

You step out

And the breeze simply seems

To blow to carry away your worries

Making breathing easy 

The green canopies and flowering trees

Waft of filter coffees and dosas, 

The flower fragrances 

Aromatically you are home too

You may not have roots here

But it lets you grow and rediscover 

Your own forgotten self and dreams

Though the traffic is traumatic

It soothes your trauma

Bangalore, what else do I say?

I literally got my second life here

After that near fatal accident

The neurologist too humoured me

With a local humour which is mild and raw

But punches do land

No wonder stand ups thrive here

The city where startups are often born to die

In a shortest span of time

People know how to pick themselves

Where uber drivers too have tales

Of bad investments and losses

You taught me to pick myself up too

Many years ago and later now

I find my broken self here in the bookshops

In science spaces and conversations

Where people still assert

While respecting boundaries

They listen, they let you have the mic

This city feels like my happy place

I can be anyone here

Educator, poet, archivist, traveller

Storyteller, photographer, reader, writer

And be them all at once too

Mankind consists of all kinds

But I always find more of my kind

In this good old charming city

(Which is fast losing its charms)

To which I keep returning to

With my scars and bruises

To my utter surprise

People call me a healer 

That’s how we just heal each other

With conversations over cuppas

Of filter coffees or walks

Undramatically, unknowingly

A calm city which is no hurry

To be smart, fast or the best

Maybe hostile and unwelcoming to some

But then we all need to

Find our happy and safe space

Which lets us be…our unapologetic self

MK